


Taken to the sky

by Arabwel



Series: Sugar and Spice [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bondage, Butt Plugs, Established Relationship, F/M, Female Peter Hale, Fluff, Fucking Machines, I plow you to the moon and watch you cum across the stars., Love Confessions, Multiple Orgasms, Nipple Clamps, Nipple Piercings, Overstimulation, Romance, Rule 63, Sex Toys, Vibrators, thank ao3 tag of the day for that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-03 03:05:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8693941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arabwel/pseuds/Arabwel
Summary: Chris growls at the words and grabs her by the arms and rolls them around, pinning her to the bed. ”I can keep up just fine.” "Bring it," Petra purrs and her blue eyes flash with the same challenge that brought them to bed the first time.**Or, when Chris gets injured, he gets creative





	

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Petopher Week, lovelies!
> 
> Massive, massive thanks to all the amazing people from discord & tumblr who helped this thing to come to fruition <3 
> 
> Title from Turbo Lover by Judas Priest

Petra slumps against the pillows, trying to catch her breath "That was fun. We should do it again."

Chris groans, equally out of breath. "I need a moment. I'm not as young as I used to be."

Petra laughs, still a little breathless. "If you can't keep up, Argent, maybe I should find someone else. The Sheriff has been looking a little lonely, maybe he'd like to -"

Chris growls at the words and grabs her by the arms and rolls them around, pinning her to the bed. ”I can keep up just fine.” 

"Bring it," Petra purrs and her blue eyes flash with the same challenge that brought them to bed the first time.

Chris smiles, an idea slowly forming at the back of his head. "You have no idea what you're asking for, baby girl."

He smothers Petra's answering smirk with a hungry kiss, licking his way into his wolf's mouth even as his hands start to wander over her body. He's definitely got some ideas, but for now, he intends to wrench another orgasm from her. 

When a stray bullet grazes Chris's thigh a week later, the conversation he had with Petra comes back to mind in startling clarity. Such an awkwardly placed gunshot wound has him unable to do much in bed, to what surprisingly is not Petra's frustration. 

Well, mostly not. She enjoys smirking at him as she touches herself in a chair across the room, telling him it's such a shame she can't just sit on his face and let him do the hard work. Despite the fact that she's got his number, knows how to work his body, the pleasure of spilling in her inhumanly hot mouth is overshadowed by the pain.

Getting what he needs is easy enough. He has restraints meant for wolves, and fixing them on a suitable surface in the workshop isn't very taxing - not even when he's officially not allowed to do anything strenuous such as work, patrol, or fuck his beautiful wolf. 

It takes another few evenings of browsing internet sites he'd never thought he would visit to find everything else he needs, while Petra is out with the pack. She doesn't suspect anything, just comes back with takeout, too tired to even snark. 

They have fallen into a comfortable existence; Chris has to admit that a part of him was afraid that Petra would go, that she'd look elsewhere while he was indisposed. They've never made any promises to each other; but what started as mutual attraction, a stress relief tinged with history became something else. Petra kept showing up like a stray cat, making herself at home in his space and somehow, it's become _their_ space. He's sure she still has her old apartment downtown, if only because he still has closet space left, but it's a near thing.

He's whipped, he thinks ruefully as he signs for the packages, the voice in his head suspiciously sounding like an amused Victoria.

When he finally has everything, he enlists the help of the pack to make sure he and Petra get to spend the evening alone, undisturbed

Melissa smiles gently when she assures that they can handle it, that between herself, the Sheriff, Derek and Parrish they have enough people old enough to drink to keep things from going to hell in a handbasket.

She pats his thigh encouragingly. "You're healing quite well. You should be able to resume light activity soon." 

Chris does not, in fact, blush. But it's a near thing.

That night, he moves to stand behind Petra, puts his arms around her and nuzzles her neck. He knows she loves it, loves it when he's scenting her, when his beard leaves a burn that heals away but leaves a memory. 

"Do you trust me?" he whispers into her ear as she moans, leaning back into him with an impatient tilt of her hips 

"Mmm, what do you have in mind, Argent? Aren't whips and chains a little passe for us?" And it should be a hard barb, it should make him flinch but it doesn't, not when she's so warm and relaxed. 

"Let me show you." 

She doesn't come to the basement a lot - something about tinkering being beneath her and not wishing to pollute his mancave - at least, not after the first time they fucked on his workbench, her legs around his waist and nearly bringing down the tool rack on the wall. 

She raises an eyebrow when she sees the - contraption he's prepared for her. "Really Christopher?" 

Chris kisses her neck and cups her breast, running a thumb over a hardened nipple. He may not be a wolf but he knows she's aroused, can feel her heartbeat speeding up, her breath quickening. 

"Will you let me?" Chris asks her, voice low and rough. He's hard in his jeans, against the curve of her ass and a part of him wants to just bend her over. But he went to great lengths for this, wants to give it to her like he can’t right now. 

"Yes," she breathes, "Oh fuck, Christopher, yes!"

He kisses her, long and hard. 

Chris is buzzing with anticipation and arousal as he leads her over to the bench he's prepared. They kiss as she strips, v neck and jeans falling to the floor in a heap, followed by her lacy lingerie.

Petra shivers when he helps her settle, lays her head on the padded leather rest and brushes her hair aside. He bends down to kiss her neck, kiss her lips as he cuffs her arms to the sides, the metal cold and unyielding. She won't be free without one hell of a fight.

She gasps as he runs his calloused hands over the smooth skin of her thighs, forces them apart gently so she's bared to his gaze. Again, he cuffs her, at the ankle and knee, soft black leather straps going around her thighs to keep her from closing her legs

"Make yourself useful while you're down there," she tells him, a smirk on her lips despite her lust dark eyes.

Chris grins in return, teeth flashing white in the low light. He runs a hand close to where she wants it, brushes against the wetness gathering there. "So wet for me," he murmurs as he teases her, fingertips feather light over her tender flesh.

"Shut up and do it, Argent."

Chris straightens up with a wince, the healing tissues pulling and sending a sharp stab of pain through him that cools his ardour.

He strokes the gleaming metal of the fucking machine. "Are you sure, baby?

Petra practically growls, lifting her head as far as she is able in response. Her eyes take in the machine, the dildo modeled on Chris's cock and the high powered vibrator above it."I can take it," she smirks, but her voice is rough with arousal. "Think I'll dump you for Tin Man if you give me a taste, darling?"

Chris smiles and pulls up a small leather bag. ”No.”

From the bag he pulls out a set of clamps, the kind that twist on and fit over Petra’s piercings. She licks her lips and bites back a whimper when he caresses the tender underside of her breasts, slowly drawing his calloused fingertips to her nipples and tweaking the barbells. 

“Oh you bastard,” she groans, back arching. “You absolute bastard.”

“Do you want me to stop?” Chris slowly fits the clamp over her nipple, the cool metal touching her skin but not yet biting down. 

“If you stop, I may have to kill you.” Petra’s voice wavers, her eyes a bright, inhuman blue as they meet his. “I want this.” 

Chris lets the clamp bite down and the wolf moans, a sharp shiver going through her body. He moves to place the second one in quick succession and takes a step back to admire his handiwork.

Petra’s breasts are heaving, a slight sheen of sweat gathering at the valley between; he knows she could come just from having her breasts played with, has come from his mouth on them more than once and the memory makes his cock throb almost painfully. 

Next, he pulls out a bottle of thick lube, the sound of the cap snapping open loud even over Petra’s labored breathing. 

She watches him as he gets his fingers slick, as he reaches down, between her cheeks, to press against the furled pucker. She’s so tight and hot around his fingers when he presses in, slow and gentle, coaxing her to open for the plug. 

“To match your eyes,” he tells her as he holds up the slim toy, lets her see the jeweled base before he slides it in, fits it snugly inside her. 

“You know how to treat a girl,” she says, tone arch but the shiver that goes through her, the clench of her thighs, betrays her. 

“I know how to treat _you.”_

More lube follows, she’s so wet part of him thinks it’s not needed, that there’s no need to drip the cool liquid over her mound, let it slide over her skin to glisten in the low light. But he wants to take no risks, wants to make sure she’s insensate from pleasure by the time he’s done with her. 

“You could have warmed that up.”

“You love to squirm and you know it.”

Her eyes follow him as he takes a step back, wraps a lube-covered hand around the shaft jutting out of the machine. It’s a little strange, holding a replica of his own erection, but he makes sure it’s slick all over before he does the same to the round vibrator head. 

Petra’s breath catches when Chris presses a button and the machine whirrs to life. She licks her lips when he moves the machine forward, gets it closer to her. He can almost smell how wet she is despite not being a wolf, can see how she’s trembling in anticipation as he checks the angle and positions the head of the dildo at her entrance, almost but not quite breaching her. 

Chris moves back and hovers a finger over the switch. 

“Chris, please - “ She’s not begging, not with the proud tilt of her chin, not with the brightness of her eyes but her breathless voice makes him shudder as he presses the button and the machine lurches forward, the dildo sinking into her with a loud, obscene noise. 

Chris steps back and settles to watch. He has the remote in his hand, the machine obeying him as he hitches the speed a little higher, gets a deep, guttural moan from Petra. He thinks she’s probably going to come like this, just from the machine thrusting inside her, before he moves the vibe over. 

Petra squirms and pants, hips moving in counterpoint to the machine. “More,” she demands, “Faster-” 

Chris clicks a button and lets her have it, the machine picking up speed: The sounds she makes go straight into his dick, a low groan that tells him she’s going to come, going to come just from being pounded by the toy if she only gets a little more - 

He hits the button again and she keens, body jerking against the bonds as she comes around the unrelenting silicone thrusting into her. 

When he’s with her, this is when he’d still his hips, let her have a moment, just enjoy the feel of her body clenching around his while she rode out her orgasm, let her have a pause so she wouldn’t get too sensitive. Now, instead of pausing the machine, instead of dialing back the speed he pushes it a notch faster. 

Petra _wails_ ; the sound petering out to a gasped insult towards Chris, but just as he thought she’s tensing again, body primed to come again - and again. 

Chris is so hard it hurts when Petra comes for the third time, her voice ragged. She’s always loved being fucked, always loved having him deep inside her and watching her like this, knowing the toy that finds all her spots, has her whining high in her throat is shaped like his cock is deeply satisfying.

“Had enough?” he asks her as he steps closer, dangling the remote in his hand. 

Her eyes flash a brilliant blue but her voice breaks when she replies. “H-hardly,” she bites out, and for a moment Chris is mesmerized by how her heaving breath has her breasts sway, the little chimes on the clamps jingling. The machine keeps thrusting between her legs with no mercy, with more than one setting still to go. 

Chris moves to turn on the vibrator; the sudden buzzing has her start, has her eyes fixate on the end of the wand that’s now fixed to a flexible arm that lets him position it just so, hovering barely an inch above her mound almost close enough to brush against the neatly trimmed hair. 

“Say please.”

“Fuck you.” But she’s smiling even as her body clenches in anticipation. 

The wand moves the final inch and makes contact with Petra’s skin; the reaction is immediate and explosive. She cries out,her hips bucking wildly. The metal groans but holds, her body thrashing against the bonds he made for her. 

Chris is startled; he’s seen her with toys before, has used vibrators on her and made her moan and whine and on occasion, beg but this is different. She’s _wild_ , in a way she has never been before, her body twisting and turning under the unrelenting machinery. 

Petra sobs when she comes, her thighs trembling; it seems like her orgasm goes on forever, barely ebbing before she’s whining again, hips moving like she doesn’t know if she wants more or to let go. 

She’s gorgeous like this; Chris licks his lips as he thumbs a button, ratchets the machine to a higher gear, plunging inside her faster, the vibrator’s hum intensifying. 

Her head lolls back against the headrest and Chris moves to her; he leans in to cradle her head in his hands, to brush the sweaty hair from her face. Her eyes are glazed with lust when she looks up at him, the ring of unnatural blue almost swallowed by lust-black. 

He kisses her forehead as the machine wrenches another orgasm from her, another hoarse cry as she fights her bonds, as the relentless pleasure washes over her with no recourse. 

“You - “ her voice is hoarse from crying out, from screaming out her pleasure. “I-”

She’s exhausted; her entire body trembles, tremors running from the tips of her toes all the way to her head; her hands have gone lax, claws no longer biting into metal: her thighs are slick with her release, her body covered in a sheen of sweat and she’s trying to pull back, pull back from the machine that’s pounding into her. 

“You can take it,” He murmurs, thumb stroking along her cheekbone, wiping away tears. “You love this, you love being taken hard. You can come one more time, come for me-”

He flicks a button. 

Petra screams, body arching taut. She’s so gorgeous, dancing on the edge of pleasure like this and Chris can’t help it, he murmurs praise at her, tells her how gorgeous she is, how good for him, his wolf, his Petra. 

“Ah - ahs- Christopher - “ She cries out as her body nudges closer to orgasm “You - fuck, Chris, fuck, I - fuck, love - love you, you - _bastard_!” 

Her words hit him as hard as her orgasm hits her, she rends metal, rips apart the restraints as she comes apart. Chris is almost on autopilot as he flicks the remote, moves to push the machine away and remove the plug. There’s an obscene noise as the toy slides free from her flushed body, her thighs trembling as he undoes the straps that came off their bearings and unlocks the cuffs still circling her limbs even as she tries to feebly close her legs, no longer kept from it by restraint but by sheer exhaustion. 

Her eyes flutter open when he leans over her to remove the clamps from her swollen nipples. “Hi.”

“Hi yourself,” he says, voice rough. 

“I don’t think I can walk after that,” she murmurs, her voice hoarse. Her eyes are bright, back to human blue. 

“Then I’ll carry you,” he tells her and a part of him can already hear Melissa’s disappointment, he scoops her up in his arms. Unsurprisingly, his thigh protests but he’s pushed himself through a lot worse for reasons not half as good as this. 

He cradles Petra close as he carries her upstairs into the bedroom, their bedroom, and lays her down on the bed. He realizes belatedly that the towels and wipes he’d prepared are all down in the basement, but it ceases to matter when she tugs him down, to kiss her, to lay beside her and gather her in his arms. 

“That was nice,” she tells him, voice languorous and full of sated want. “But I think I still prefer this.” Her hand slides down his chest, to the waistband of his jeans. 

He’s still hard, has been all through this; he groans, the stab of pain on his thigh not enough to make him stop from arching into her touch, from letting her hand press and knead at him until he’s coming in his jeans like a teenager. 

She laughs and he pulls her close, her head pillowed on his chest. He’s uncomfortably sticky, they both are, but for now all Chris Argent wants is to lay here and hold the woman he loves in his arms. 

“I love you too,” he murmurs into her hair. 

“I knew you’d hold what I say in throes of ecstasy against me,” Petra grouses but she’s smiling, her hand toying with his bellybutton. 

But she doesn’t say she didn’t mean it. 

**


End file.
